


True Romance

by Rhea32



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blackmail, F/M, Lies, Money, Murder, Revenge, Romance, Sex, True Love, Violence, conflicting emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea32/pseuds/Rhea32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Samantha woke up from a horrible Vault-Tec experiment gone wrong, she found herself in a world that didn't make any sense. After locking herself into her old house for days, the dwindling supplies of food and water forced her to head out in the Wastes. Unprepared and weak, the first people with bad intentions that crossed her path quickly realised she was an easy target. Little did Sam know, a certain stone-cold mercenary was nearby to put a little dent into their plan.</p><p>My story begins with a short prologue to set the mood. Several chapters to come. Yes, there's a plot. Yes, it's rated M for sex and language. Feel free to leave a comment! Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue

Under the cover of darkness, I ran. My ragged breathing was the only sound breaking the eerie silence surrounding me. My sniper rifle swung back and forth against my back. Blood spilled from a deep cut on my forehead. It left behind a chaotic trail on the broken concrete tiles. In the distance, I could see the familiar red neon lights burn. Almost there. One last look behind my shoulder assured me I wasn't being followed. As I clenched the delicate silver necklace around my neck, I could feel it. The bubbling boil of vengeance that heated my blood for so long simmered down. The sensation was almost... peaceful.

'Sam!' He cried out, getting up from the edge of the bed. There was no doubt in my mind that he was anxiously awaiting my return, with a head filled up with questions only I had the answers to. He closed in on me and cupped my face, his fingertips digging deep into my bloodstained skin.

'You're hurt.' He remarked with terror in his eyes, shoving away a lock of hair to inspect the wound more closely.

'I-' I breathed with difficulty. With disbelief I stared at my trembling hands. 

'What happened to you?' He begged me, his voice brittle. My whole body shivered, trying my best to ignore the itching sting in my eyes. In that moment, the consequences of my actions became crystal clear to me.

His hands grabbed my shoulders and shook me briefly. 'Sam... Answer me. Please!'

'I- I killed them.' My own voice, devoid from emotion, never sounded so alien to me before.

His grasp on my shoulders weakened, and he stared at me with parted lips. His widened pupils danced across my face.

'Listen to me, Mac.' I continued, raising my trembling voice as I grabbed the rifle from behind my back and threw it away from me. With a harsh, loud clattering sound it landed on the wooden floor.

'It's over.' I closed my eyes and bowed my head sideways in silence. Seconds passed that felt like hours, awaiting his reaction to the darkest confession I've made in my entire life.

'You're a fool.' He spoke quietly, surprising me with how soothing, compassionate his words sounded. When I opened my eyes, he pressed his lips against mine so feverishly as if he would never get another chance in life to kiss me. I threw my arms around his neck and drew him close. His heartbeat pounded erratically against my chest.

'Why did you do it?' He asked when I laid my head to rest against his shoulder, clutching the collar of his jacket. The tears I fought so hard to held back now roamed freely across my cheeks. It was so simple. So pure.

'Because I love you.'

 


	2. Chapter 2

I opened my eyes and found myself laying in a bed, in a room I've never seen before. I laid still, yet my head was spinning and my vision blurred. My tired eyes drifted across the room. I was alone. When I tried to get up, an unexpected sharp sting of pain forced me to lie down again. I shoved the thin blanket off me. The only clothing I wore was my mud-stained jeans and my bra. I noticed a bandage carefully wrapped around my waist. I ran my fingers across it. When I turned my hand, I saw how blood covered my fingertips.

Footsteps, approaching from outside the room. I froze, held my breath and watched the door intently. My heart pounded in my ears. The door opened with an eerie creak, revealing only a hand that seems to belong to a man.

'Stay back!' I screamed, my throat turning hoarse due to the harshness of my voice. Whilst trying to suppress the need to cough I stared at the shadowy figure standing in the doorway. With little regard for my threat he took a careful step inside the room. I covered up my exposed body, deluding myself I'd be more safe.

'Don't come any closer. I-' My eyes landed on a small pocketknife laying on the nightstand to my right. With my shaking hands I unsheathed it rather clumsy.

'I'm- I'm armed. Stay where you are!'

'Put that thing away or before you hurt yourself.' The stranger warned me, his voice calm and belittling. I ignored his request and stretched out my shivering arm, pointing the tip of the sharp blade towards him.

'I won't hurt you.' He scoffed, offended by my hostile behavior.

'Are you one of them? Answer me!' Panic overtook my voice, afraid to receive an answer that would confirm my worst fear.

'Look lady... I'm not. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to even ask me this question.'

He came closer and crouched at the edge of the bed. Regardless of the unbearable pain I backed away from him instantly, forcing my back flat against the brick wall. Thanks to the dim light of a flickering candle placed on the nightstand, I could make out his features. I've never seen this young man before. No, he couldn't have been one of them. I would've remembered. My firm grip on the knife weakened until I it landed on the mattress.

'Those men...' I mumbled to myself, trying to connect the dots with my hazy mind. It all happened so fast.

'I killed them.' His words were unaffected by any form of remorse. 'It's okay, you're safe now.' His hand reached for my blanket.

'Don't.' I grunted, unconvinced his words were as pure as he made them out to be.

'Don't be stubborn. I need to replace your bandage whether you like it or not. Do you want it to fester?' He paused and studied my face. It looked as if he regretted the harsh tone he used on me.

'I won't hurt you.' He promised, leaning away from me. 'You're afraid, I can tell. But right now I need you to trust me.'

I stared into his dark green eyes. If he wanted to kill me, I figured he could've done so already. Hesitantly I pulled the blanket down, allowing him to unwrap the bandage. The first touch of his warm hands startled me, but I didn't let it show. With slow, delicate movements he removed the blood-soaked bandage. Then he reached for his bag hanging over the chair next to the bed, fishing a tiny white bottle out of it. He carefully uncorked it, pouring some of the liquid on a piece of cloth.

'This will sting.' He warned me, right before he pressed it against my wound. I clenched my teeth and looked away. My hand formed a fist, banging on the mattress several times.

'When I found you, I thought you were a goner for sure.' He explained as I watched him wrap a clean, new bandage around my waist. It looked as if it was a routine job for him. Not for a second did he let his eyes wander across my breasts. I felt my muscles relax, accepting that this man wasn't the enemy I perceived him to be.

'But sure enough, you still had some life kicking in you. So I brought you here.'

I reached for his wrist once he was finished treating me.

'Thank you.' I mumbled. 'I'm- I'm sorry.' My voice was feeble from exhaustion. 'I'm so tired.'

He stood up and my hand slipped away from him.

'Try to get some sleep.' He comforted me, staring down at me with pity in his eyes.

'Don't go.' I heard myself say, my fear of being alone overwhelming me so severely that I wanted a killer to stay and watch over me. Wincing from pain, I placed myself on my side.

'Please.' I whimpered, forcing a smile to appear on my lips.

'I'm not going anywhere. Not until you're better.' He stated as he took a seat next to me, made himself comfortable and flipped open a comic book. I couldn't stop staring at him. I didn't even know his name. It didn't take long before I felt myself slipping away into the first peaceful slumber I had in the last four days.


	3. Chapter 3

Clueless about the amount of hours I'd been asleep, I awoke to the sound of heavy rainfall. For a little while, I watched the countless careless raindrops sail across the cracked window. With closed eyes I listened, hoping it would soothe me like it always did. The wind found its way inside, leaving my body covered by goose bumps. The dirty, thin blanket proved useless against the cold. With a shivering hand I reached for a leather duster draped over the chair next to me, the only trace left by the stranger whom I owed my life to. Without giving it much thought, I placed it over my shoulders.

I limped towards the window, the old wooden floor creaking under my footsteps no matter how cautiously I treaded. With a hesitant move, I pulled away the flimsy yellow-stained curtain.

Others. There were other people here. My heart raced inside my chest as I sat there cowering, ducked under the window still. I wondered if they knew about the vault. About the experiment. Maybe, just maybe someone else got out. Someone else, burdened by the same surreal feeling I couldn't shake off no matter how hard I tried. One moment you're asleep and the next you find yourself sitting up straight in bed. You look around the room desperate for an answer as your chest fills up with terror, unable to relax even the smallest muscle in your body. Your brain plays a trick on you, but you don't realize it. No, not yet. Unable to think clearly, you're forced to accept what happened as the new reality. But soon the fear and terror invoked within your heart retreats and you realize... it was just a nightmare. That's how I felt. You know, aside from one tiny little detail. I couldn't snap out of it. That moment of clarity, it never came.

'Thanks again, MacCready. It's good to know I can count on you.' A low, hushed voice was audible from the hallway behind the closed door.

I got back up and peered out of the window, this time making sure I was out of sight for anyone below. They looked nothing short of your average, classic beggar in the street. The one you can't stand to look at for you know it would fill you up with a raw, relentless guilt knowing you can't change his faith. Their clothes were as ragged as the duster hanging over my shoulders keeping me warm, their faces as dirty as I imagined mine was after roaming the wasteland for days.

I didn't turn around, my eyes were glued to the strangers. Other survivors. They were armed, every single one of them. Most of them took shelter from the downpour, crowding together in packs around a small bonfire.

'Thought you might be hungry.' He said as I heard him enter the room, holding a steaming bowl of noodles in his unwashed hands. After he placed it on the nightstand he took a seat at a small wooden table centered in the room.

'Thanks.' I mumbled as I went back to sit on the bed. I didn't even bother to chew. Must've looked like a savage pig devouring the first real food I'd seen in days. I felt him staring at me, no doubt with many questions floating around in his mind.

'What's your name?' He asked me as he swung a deep-green duffle bag onto the table with a loud thud.

'Samantha. Ah- Sam. Just Sam.' I replied rather nervously as I continued shoving noodles into my mouth as rapid as possible.

'My name's MacCr-'

'Yeah, I heard.' I interrupted, pointing at the door. 'Who was that?'

'A satisfied client.' He replied as he zipped open the bag, revealing its contents. Never have I tried so hard to act casual when confronted by a small arsenal of knives, guns and rifles. It held enough weapons to maim, wound or kill a man in countless different ways.

'What exactly do you do for a living?'

'Me?' He asked innocently, a cocky smile appearing his lips. 'I solve problems. Different solutions for different problems.' He winked amusingly at me as if he made a casual joke he expected me to understand. I forced an awkward smile to appear on my lips and continued to watch how he took a sniper rifle in his hands.

'You know Sam, I've been wondering.' He started, cleaning the rifle with devotion. There wasn't a bolt or screw he left unchecked. 'What exactly were you thinking?' He sneered at me, his eyes shooting me down. Startled by the sudden change of his tone I bit my tongue and stared him down. Of all the words that tumbled around in my head, none of them seemed suitable.

'I mean, c'mon.' He continued his rant after letting out a groan terrible of hiding his frustration. ' _Everyone_ in the Commonwealth knows that area is raider territory. You can't just waltz in there. Especially not unarmed. Speaking of which...' He paused, peering at me suspiciously. 'Why were you unarmed?'

Surprised by his question, I realized I couldn't risk telling him the truth, even if he deserved it. If even I couldn't understand or explain what was happening, nobody could. I promised myself I'd give him the truth, eventually. But not today. I had to stall. Buy time. Anything so I wouldn't have to explain myself. Anything so I wouldn't be turned away to face the wastes by myself, branded as a mad woman who's lost all touch with reality.

'Can you teach me?'

'Are you serious?' He chuckled, his movements coming to an abrupt halt. 'Never met a woman who couldn't handle a gun.'

'Can you teach me?' I repeated, this time louder and able to cover up the tremble in my voice.

Looking him straight in the eyes I feigned determination the best I could. But the way he looked at me revealed that the desperation on which I acted was painfully visible. For a moment he seized me up, trying to decide what to do with me. Anxiously I awaited his answer, but instead he faced away from me and turned silent. I didn't need to see his whole face to know why he was struggling with his decision. He couldn't just send me out there, knowing full well I wasn't able to defend myself. Especially not after he went through all the trouble of bringing me to safety and nursing me back to health. Or at least that's what I hoped. With every second of silence that passed, I grew more insecure of my faith.

'You are, aren't you?' He looked down on me with pity, as if I was some sick animal waiting to be put out of its misery.

'Please.' I begged with a soft voice. I resisted the urge to cry, even though I was sure I didn't had any more tears left. 'I have nowhere to go.'

'Yes, I can but-' He let out a deep sigh, as if he cursed himself for taking me under his wing so unexpectedly.

'Thank you.' I cut him short, unable to let second thoughts invade his mind.

'Can you walk?' He asked sternly.

'Yes. I think so.' I lied, ignoring the stinging pain in my waist.

'Good.' He replied, throwing a spare shirt at me that belonged to him. 'We leave in an hour. This dump was a temporary set up, anyway. High time for me, ah - _us_ to leave.'

 

My drenched hair was plastered against my face and the wind was so sharp it felt like it chipped little pieces of my skin. The short but dark isolation, the everlasting inner debate whether I'd gone insane or not... It all started to fade away, the feeling of loneliness and despair were being traded with hope of a positive outcome of hunch, a mere risk. MacCready scared me as much as he made me feel safe, but at least I wasn't alone. Not anymore.

'Keep it on.' He assured me when I wanted to give him back his duster. I clenched the collar together and held it firmly against my chest to shield me from the cold. 'It's not that far. We can make it before nightfall.'

What scared me most when we left the safety of what he called a small city, was the hallow moaning of the concrete buildings, suffering against the merciless wind as if they could collapse at any moment.

'Follow me closely and try to keep up.' He spoke right before the pace of his footsteps increased. At every corner I could see him scouting the area like a hawk. He would only look at me, signal me with a silent nod when it was safe to continue. Following in his footsteps, I realized that keeping my true origin a secret wouldn't be as easy as I'd hoped. Rooted to the broken concrete, I stared up to the ravaged building I used to work at. In the blink of an eye, it had turned into an ancient, crumbling ruin standing tall amidst the aftermath of the nuclear wasteland. I stared at the window of my former workplace and felt how the memories tied to the place cut through me like a sharp knife.

'C'mon. We need to keep moving.' He whispered, tugging my wrist.

Having left the depressing crumbling city streets behind us, we came to a halt in front of a huge grain field. As he paved a way through for us, he assured me it wouldn't take long anymore. Sure enough, after a few minutes we came to a halt in front of what looked like an average wooden cabin you'd find in the woods, except for the big iron door. He must've fiddled with a thousand locks before he finally opened it.

'It's not much... But it's home.' He proudly said as he walked up to a refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of beer. 'You want one?'

'No, I'm good.' I replied. Pausing in the doorway, I took a look around. Quickly I understood why he kept this place hidden in isolation, away from what he perceived as civilization. His place itself wasn't that large and it only consisted of one room. But it had had everything you could've dreamed of when waking up to a post-apocalyptic version of the world you once knew by heart. Plenty of dry food and bottled water was placed on a rusted cupboard. I could see a radio placed on a coffee table inside. The nearly undamaged furniture almost made it feel like a real home instead of some makeshift hideout in the middle of a grain field.

'You want me to take my shoes off?' I asked before walking inside. He ignored my question but I took them off anyway, placing them neatly together next to the closed door.

'You can take the bed.' He announced as if it wasn't up for debate.

I took off his wet duster and hung it over a wooden chair, right before I took a seat on the bed. The shirt he gave me was a size too large for me, but at least it wasn't drenched. The mattress was clean and soft, nothing compared to the one I slept on in the hotel. I ran my hands across the thick sheets before I curled up and laid on my side. In a dysfunctional way, I felt at ease. Safely tucked away from the horrors of the outside, I could breathe easy again. I smiled to myself when I understood how ironic my fate truly was. Of all the people who could've crossed my path on the brink of death, it had to be him. A killer, nothing more. The type of man that before all of this, I fought so hard to keep locked up behind iron bars.

'What's so funny?' He asked me, interrupting my thoughts. He sat on the big sofa in the centre of the room. His hand dangled nonchalantly off the armrest, his legs stretched out. For the first time I took a good look at him, trying to see him as something else than a hasty, improvised solution for the mess I was in. He didn't look anything like the men who attacked me last night. Instead, I saw a certain calmness, even innocence in his green eyes when they locked into mine.

'I never expected to meet someone like you.' I confessed, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the honesty of my words.

'Likewise. Guess life is full of surprises.' He spoke, placing the empty bottle on the ground. 'I'm going to turn in early. We have lots of practice ahead of us tomorrow.' 

The longer I watched him, the more it became clear he struggled finding a comfortable position to fall asleep.

'It's okay, I trust you.' I eventually said, tapping the mattress with the palm of my hand. I shuffled to the other side of the bed, freeing up a place for him to sleep. It felt unfair somehow, taking up all this space that could've easily fitted us both. Besides, I could tell he was tired and in need of a good rest. I assured myself that a man who cared enough to bring me here, to shelter me from harm wasn't about to pull any wrong moves on me.

An awkward silence filled up the room and we stared at each other, until he got up and walked towards me. He took a seat on the bed, his back faced towards me. One by one, he started to unbutton his shirt. Right before his bare back became visible to me, I quickly turned around. I hadn't been this close to a man in a long time, regardless of the missing sexual factor of his action.

'Goodnight.' I whispered with a lump in my throat. I felt him wiggle restlessly around, rearranging his pillow until he finally seemed pleased with the set-up. He yawned sleepily, stretching his legs out one last time.

'Goodnight, Sam.'


	4. Chapter 4

The next day I was pleased to see the rain had vanished, the boiling hot sun taking its place. I got out of bed and followed the loud chopping noises coming from outside.

Leaning in the doorway I saw him standing on the dried up grass in front of the house. In his right hand he held a makeshift hatchet, carved out of stone and adorned with leather straps. His rather slender, yet muscular back glistered in the sun. I didn't expect a man of his posture capable of swinging a hatchet with such powerful swings. Little pieces of wood flew through the air the harder he chopped. I took a step towards him, only to bump clumsily into a set of damaged pots and pans stacked on top of each other.

'Don't sneak up on me like that.' He snapped at me as he threw the hatchet on the grass.

'You up for some training?' He asked while he wiped his face clean with his folded up shirt. Sweat dripped from his chest as he turned around.

'Yeah, ah- sure.' I replied with a slight stutter in my voice. I averted my gaze, hoping to land my eyes on something that wouldn't cause me to blush like a complete fool. He passed right aside me, his scent lingering in the air surrounding me. The odors of sweat and cigarettes mingled with the smells of leather and wood.

He returned wearing a clean checkered shirt, holding the green duffle bag in his hand. He placed it on the ground next to my feet.

'Stay here.' He commanded me as I watched him saunter towards the wooden crates. One by one, he placed empty glass bottles on a straight line.

'Right. So, let's start out small, okay?' He spoke as he placed a glock into my hands. Always having worked with the police, I'd seen this kind of weapon before. I remember catching myself staring at it every time they visited us at the office, wondering if it would one day be used to kill. The gun felt weighty in my rather slender hand. I held it in front of me like I've seen actors in movie hold one.

'You're doing it wrong.' He sighed as if he couldn't accept the fact I couldn't hold a gun correctly, regardless of the fact I never held one in my life. His right arm slipped over my shoulder, adjusting my hand into a correct grip.

'Now hold it firmly. I assure you, you won't break it.' He said, squeezing my hand placed on the ribbed grip. 'Close one eye, it will help you find your aim.' He said right before he took three steps away from me, assuming a safe position behind me. I could tell he didn't trust me at all. I held my breath and closed my left eye. The finger I held on the trigger was slippery on the cold metal. Nervous yet determined to hit my target, I took one last deep breath. The loud bang echoed through the sun bathed fields surrounding us, scaring a pack of crows away. I opened my eyes again. I didn't expected the sound of a gunshot to be so loud. My upper arms trembled from excitement.

'Missed.' He remarked with crossed arms. 'Again.'

Countless of tries later I felt ready to give up. It proved more difficult as I thought.

'Let's try something else.' He eventually said, fed up with my amateur shooting skills. He handed me a sniper rifle, which he carefully adjusted in my shivering hands.

'Don't be nervous.' He grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to take a few steps back.

'You see those little lines in the scope? Hover them straight over the bottle. Piece of cake.'

I gave him one last desperate look, preparing myself for yet another failure. Obeying his instructions, I noticed how I had a clearer view of my target. Thanks to my shaky hands it took me a while to get a steady aim, but once I did I couldn't hesitate anymore. With an unsure nudge, I pulled the trigger. To both our surprise, the glass bottle shattered into a thousand pieces.

'Holy shit.' He mumbled from behind me.

'I did it!' I exclaimed, my voice full of disbelief. Euphoria coursed through my veins. My brain sizzled from excitement of my personal triumph. When I turned around to face him, I couldn't help but be warmed by the proud, astonished smile on his face. The sniper rifle escaped my hands, falling on the dirt next to my feet. Unable to control this unexpected burst of heavily missed happiness, I stopped thinking. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close.

'I actually hit the damn bottle.' I mumbled next to his ear as I tightened my grasp. As I pressed my body against him, his body froze. An awkward chuckle escaped his lips, and he raised his hands so they would meet mine. After holding them for a moment, I could sense him crane his head so he could look at me. Slowly he guided them back from whey they came from.

'You still need a lot of practice.' He said, his voice hitching. He coughed and took a hesitant step away from me. 'If you want to survive by yourself, this isn't enough.'

I composed myself standing in front of him, regretting my impulsive action. It felt as if I crossed an unspoken boundary between us. It wasn't professional. I assumed that's the way he looked at our little agreement.

'Actual, living targets won't be standing still. You need to anticipate their movements. Always be prepared, always be one step ahead. Talking about cover-'

My mind drifted off, his heeding words forming a hazy mist inside my ears. All that mattered is I made the shot. I figured if I could manage this, I'd have a real chance of avoiding another situation like the one I found myself in two days ago. It made feel strong, regardless of the fact I hardly recognized myself. The idea of using a weapon that could kill always frightened me.

'Anyway that's enough for today. At least we made progress.'

 

Later that day I sat outside on a bench, enjoying the cool breeze floating over my sunburned skin. The radio was playing, and I sipped from my beer. Could've fooled myself into believing nothing was wrong with the world if I tried hard enough. I stared above me, at the million stars sparkling in the deep black sky.

I didn't notice when MacCready took a seat next to me.

'Sam?'

'Yeah?'

'I have to ask. What happened to you?'

This whole time he refrained himself of asking questions, but I knew this moment was unavoidable. Maybe it was the sentimental music playing in the background, maybe it was because I found beauty amidst the destruction. Maybe this should've been the right moment to cave in and explain everything. Unable to control the devastating whirlwind of emotions I fought to quell inside me, tears started pouring down my cheeks. I turned away so he wouldn't see. If anything, I wanted to be strong and confident like him. A soft sniff escaped my nose, alerting him to my tears.

'Sam, what's wrong?' He asked as he turned to look at my face. 'Don't cry.'

'I lost everyone. One day I woke up and everyone was... gone. I didn't know where to go, where to-' I heard myself ramble on and on, my voice brittle as if it was about to snap like a little twig.

'It's okay. J-just take it easy.' He whispered soothingly as he placed the palm of his hand on the back of my head. Hesitantly he pulled me close into an embrace. This compassionate, tender gesture reminded me of how much I desperately needed someone to comfort me. I never realized how much I needed to hear someone say those exact words. I placed my arms around him and laid my head to rest on his chest. While I listened to his heartbeat, my breathing slowed down, it's steady rhythm returning.

'It's okay.' He kept repeating with every stroke he landed on my hair. 'We don't have to talk about it.' He told me, not if I didn't wanted to.

Sitting there in the comfort of his secure and firm embrace, I felt the guilt seep in. Especially of the way he stopped me from crying, stopped me from slipping back into the desperate state I found myself in before he came into my life. I should've told him right then and there, but the risk of losing this feeling of safety held me back.

'I'm sorry.' I released myself from his grasp, wiping away the last tears on my cheeks. 'It's hard to explain.'

'Don't be.' He immediately replied, still looking at me with sorrow in his eyes. 'Look, don't worry okay? You can stay here as long as you need.'

'Yes.' I sniffled, 'I'd like that.' My trembling lips formed a smile, hoping he'd see how grateful I was even if I was at loss for words. He caressed my shoulder briefly before he went back inside. I stayed outside until I felt the first of many raindrops sizzling on my arm like oil on a hot plate. When I came back inside, I found him sitting at a desk.

'You're an artist?' I noticed when I saw countless of sketches lying around. Some of them were unfinished, but those that were showed real talent.

'These are good.' I complimented him, pointing at a detailed drawing of the hotel we've stayed last night.

'Thanks, I guess. Good way to kill time as any.' He replied, waving my compliment away as if he didn't believe me.

My eyes landed on a drawing that stood out from the others. A beautiful woman with long dark hair, almost as long as mine. She smiled as if she didn't had a care in the world, wearing a red summer dress that accentuated her subtle freckles on her nose and cheeks.

'Mac? Who is she?'

 


End file.
